


USUK Drabbles

by chamomilekai



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, USUK - Freeform, oneshots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-25
Updated: 2017-07-25
Packaged: 2018-12-06 22:26:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11610198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamomilekai/pseuds/chamomilekai
Summary: Some English-speaking dorks for your soul.





	1. Club-Hoppers

// Here's an old piece I found a while back. It could use some work, but here it is for now. 

 

I don't care to know what had happened since then. I went to clubs. It worked, mind you. I got a few hundred pounds out of it. I sat there, forced a charming smile on my face, flanked with women on either side. They touched my face, kissed my temples, set their hands on my chest, slipped them under my shirt, and conveniently on the inside on my thigh. I ignored them. I got payed for it, so it didn't matter.

I came home to my hotel room one day, and my phone rang. It was America.

"England, where are you, are you out on the street, I heard that you lost your job, omg are you okay, do you have food, what happened, tell me tell me please-"

It went on for a couple of minutes until I decided to stop his rambling.

"America," I sighed into the receiver, "I'm fine."

He made an odd worried sound that I had never heard from him before. "Are you sure, because I just heard about it this morning..."

His worrying almost made me smile. It wasn't like him to call me just to worry. "Yes." I said calmly. "I'm absolutely fine."

He huffed through the phone. "I'm coming over then, because I feel like you're lying."

"America, I'm not-" He hung up.

I paused for a moment, staring at the phone in my hand. After another moment, I threw the bloody thing on the bed and made my way into the bathroom. I was a mess. America was definitely going to worry about me if he saw me like this. I hadn't slept in a week. There were bags under my eyes, stubble on my chin, and my shirt was unbuttoned carelessly, messy. It took me a moment to clean myself up, and I stepped out of the shower and into the main room.

I had the dawning thought that America didn't even know where I was. It's not like he was going to-

Bam.

... Not like he was going to somehow find me and rip open the door with his freak strength or anything.

No. No, of course not. That would be ridiculous.

Wait.

I was in a towel.

And America had just ripped the door of my hotel room open.

Be calm. Okay.

"AMERICA! WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE!?"

Not calm. Well, bollocks.

"E-England!?" He was blushing. He was blushing at me. That's cute- NO IT'S NOT.

I paused, mid-thought, and turned on one heel, walking back into the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. It took me a few second to process what had just happened, but when I did, it had already been long enough and Mr. Hero was banging on the door.

"Before you break another door, America."

He stopped.

"Could you be a dear and grab me some clothes?" I nearly growled at him. "It would be greatly appreciated."

Ten minutes later and I was dressed, standing in front of America; I was fuming, and his cheek was red and raw.

"Dude, you didn't have to slap me..." His voice was almost whiney. Ugh, it was so annoying. I almost slapped him again, but decided against it, and gently set my hand at my side again.

"You should go. And leave me alone."

"But, England, I heard you lost your job and I-"

"Just shut up! I'm fine! I don't need your sympathy, or your help!"

He looked as if he was physically hurt. He was put a bit aback, and I could almost see tears in his eyes. He was such a child. No wonder no one trusted his opinion.

He was gone before I could say anything more.

Realization hit me like a brick. What did I do? I... broke his heart. He only cared about me... right? I swayed on my feet, and then sat on the bed, my face in my hands. God, I was too harsh sometimes. The clock caught my eye, I stood, and all in one movement I swore, grabbed my belongings, and hit the road.

~~~

What was that club called? I wandered around downtown for a bit until I finally recognized the neon sign. I stashed my things behind a dumpster and made my way casually up to the entrance. I shook out my hair and when my name was asked, I gave it and was ushered into the darkness.

Lights of all kinds hit me in the face and it took me a moment to adjust. Before long, I had been recognized.

"Arthur~! How are you, darling?"

Think. Think, what was her name? Idiot, if you don't want to get slapped, you'll remember her name. Brunette, bright eyes, platform shoes... Jessica.

"Ah, I'm well, and you, Jessica?"

She smiled at her name. Thank god. I let out half of a sigh, and then shook my head and smiled myself. 'Arthur.' I had been giving all the girls my other name, instead of England. I was lead to a group of couches with several other women.

"Girls, this is Arthur, he's what you would call an acquaintance of mine~" Jessica gave the group a cheeky wink. "You all can do what you'd like with him."

I forced a smile. They swooned. I was buried in hands and lips, club music and the smell of alcohol in the background.

~~~

"EN- I mean, ARTHUR!"

I swore, and then apologized to the girls against me. When they asked what was the matter, I told them it was an old friend who I'd rather not find me. Giggling all around.

"Kiss me, Arthur~" One of them asked.

"Oh, but you're too pretty, love. I'm afraid I'd break you." I kissed her forehead anyway.

"ARTHUR!" There it was again. That obnoxious voice. And I didn't want to look at his face right now.

The girls asked me who my friend was.

"And old acquaintance, I guess you could call him." I sighed a bit. "He doesn't like me and this job."

"Aww." A blonde said. "Can we meet him, Arthur? Can we?"

I laughed a bit. Fake laughter. "I don't want you to like him more than me." I stuck a slightly whining tone on my words.

"We won't!" They laughed.

I coughed. "Excuse me a moment then..." I stood, glancing at heads, and walked into the crowd. I muttered to myself, looking for that stupid Nantucket. When I finally did, I was swept aside by dancers and another girl I... apparently, knew.

"Hello, Olivia?" I tried.

Slap. Denied.

Well. I rubbed my cheek, glancing up again and looking for America. I tapped someone's shoulder. "Have you seen anyone about... yea high, dirty blonde hair, blue eyes...?" They shook their head. I couldn't even figure out if it was a guy or girl in this lighting. "Sort of a dimwit?"

"Ah, yeah." They pointed me in a general direction.

I nodded my thanks and pushed through the crowd. I was becoming desperate. But why? It's not like I cared about him... or anything... Maybe I cared more than I'd like to admit...

I shook my head and made it to the wall of the room. All in a second, arms wrapped around me and my face was buried in his shoulder. "Ame- Alfred. I blink for one second and-" I paused. "Alfred stop hugging me. Not here. Have a reputation to keep." I pushed him away, and brushed myself off.

"Dude, Eng- Arthur, I was so worried about you I didn't know where you went 'cause I came back and you were gone so I asked around and eventually I found that you had gone here and what are you doing in a club, I mean I didn't think you were that kind of person-" I put a hand over his mouth.

"This is how I get payed." I grumbled. "The girls want to meet you, so come on." I grabbed his arm and went back to where the group of women were waiting, talking.

"Oh Arthur!" One said. "You're back! Is that your friend~?"

America laughed a bit and made a stupid face. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, the F stands for 'freedom!' I like hamburgers, shakes, and video games! Nice to meet you!"

"Awww~!" It was all of them. All of them.

I sighed. There goes my pay.

"Arthur! I didn't know you had an American friend!" It was Jessica again.

"Yeah, he's a nuisance." I said, forcing a little smile.

"He's cute."

"I know-" My eyes widened, and I cut myself off.

Jessica paused. "Wait. Do you like him?" She grinned.

"NO." I snap. Ouch. My reputation.

Jessica smiled again, and pushed me in America's direction. "But, he probably likes you back!"

I could feel him blush; I was two inches away from his face. So he liked me. That much was obvious. But what about me? I looked at his face for a second... messy hair, that stupid Nantucket... behind his glasses were blue eyes, deep as the ocean... cute nose, in all honesty... lips. His lips looked soft. Tempting even...

"A-Arthur...?"

I was snapped back to reality, eyes opening from their half-closed state, my mouth shutting for a second before I said the most obvious thing I could think of. "No. I don't like him."

There was an audible, disappointed, "Aww..." from the group of women, then a chuckle.

I was grabbing on to America's bomber jacket, pressing myself against him. I gasped and shoved him away, the slightest hint of a blush finding my face. I cursed under my breath.

Giggles and more excited whispering all around.

America, cupped my cheek with his hand. How was it he could be so gentle? Impossible. He was not allowed to be charming. Do not look at him. He is not attractive.

I glanced up. Okay, granted, he was good-looking... he was really good-looking...

"Shut up." I muttered to myself.

"Arthur? What's the matter, bro?"

Bollocks, I said that out loud. I moved from America's touch and hit myself in the face for my stupidity. And just to add even more stupidity to the situation, I dared another look at his gorgeous, adorably squishy, cute face- SHUT UP.

"Arthur you're as red as a tomato." He laughed. Oh god, he laughed. He laughed. That was- I had to physically remove myself from my idiot thoughts.

The girls were laughing now. "Arthur. I will give you £100 if you kiss him."

I flipped my head down. The darkness was not helping this blush.

"What would you do for that much, Arthur?" Another girl said.

"Make that £200."

"£250."

Mr. Hero was chuckling lightly off to the side. He touched my face. "Arthur," He started, and then smiled that godforsaken smile. "That's a bit of money, isn't it?"

I made a fake gagging sound. "God, no. I'm not kissing that wanker for anything." I said to no one.

America huffed, clearly disappointed. "Guess I'll have to kiss you then!"

My mind suddenly stopped. A feeble, "What?" was all I managed before he took my face in his hands, and pressed his lips to mine.

I was stiff, the girls cheered a bit.

The single second or so that our lips touched felt like forever. My mind battled with itself, throwing out facts, opinions, and feelings. Ah, feeling. The softness of his hair, the sharp bone of his jaw... wait. When did my hands get there? I realized that I was getting too into this. My eyes flicked open and I pulled away with a gasp.

"No..." I started. America was looking at me with those eyes of his. Deep, bright blue eyes that I couldn't look away from. He slipped his glasses off. Oh geez, he looked good like that...

"Arthur..." He waved his hand in front of my face. "You're staring."

"... What?" I asked no one.

The group of girls giggled.

His stupid face. His stupid laugh. His stupid personality. What was it about him?

The next couple words slipped out of my mouth before I could think correctly, "Alfred, you wanker, don't stand there, kiss me."

A stupid smirk found his face before we kissed again, and the women made a ruckus, drawing attention to us. The darkness and music failed to hide anything: the pink tinge on our cheeks, the sounds we made- I made.

I couldn't care less.

His hands slid to my waist, mine to his hair. It was a battle for dominance now, sucking, biting, gripping.

It must have been a few minutes before we pulled away from each other. There was a distant cheer, but I couldn't hear it. All I could see was his eyes, searching mine. I moved and brushed myself off.

"Let's go, Alfred. You need to go home."

Jessica tapped my shoulder. "You forgot something." She held out a stack of bills to me. I gave her a light smile and took it. We left the club.

~~~

"So how much did you... I mean, we, get?" America asked.

I stood, counting the money. My eyes widened when I finished. "All of this combined is almost £100,000..."

"Dude, how many dollars is that?"

"Roughly $140,000."

"You serious?!" He looked disbelieving. That cute look on his face just made me want to kiss him again.

I did.

"Is this mean we-?"

"Yes." I blurted.

"Was that a yes to the serious thing or the question I was going to ask?"

I pause. "What were you going to ask?"

"Since you don't have a place, does this mean you can come live with me?"

I gave him an odd look. "America..."

"I guess that's a no."

"Wanker. Yes."

\-- End --


	2. Random

// You know those fanfiction generators? Yeah. This makes me laugh. I threw some things in one of them and this is the result.

 

It all started when our predictably heroic hero, Alfred, woke up in a haunted thicket. It was the fifth time it had happened. Feeling exceedingly exasperated, Alfred ate his supposedly last hamburger, thinking it would make him feel better (but sadly, it did not). Just as zero people expected, he realized that his other beloved hamburger was missing! Immediately he called his fundamentalist, guilt-dispensing friend, Arthur. Alfred had known Arthur for (plus or minus) 250 years, the majority of which were curious ones. Arthur was unique. He was easygoing though sometimes a little... sarcastic. Alfred called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.

Arthur picked up to a very nervous Alfred. Arthur calmly assured him that most horrifying ghosts howl before striking, yet some are completely silent. He had no idea what he was talking about; he was only concerned with distracting Alfred. Why was Arthur trying to distract Alfred? Because he had snuck out from Alfred's with the hamburger only four days prior. It was a funny joke... how could he resist?

It didn't take long before Alfred got back to the subject at hand: his hamburger. Arthur yawned. Reluctantly, Arthur invited him over; assuring him they'd find the hamburger. Alfred grabbed his car and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Arthur realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the hamburger and he had to do it recklessly. He figured that if Alfred took the best-in-its-so-called-'class' sedan, he had taken at least five minutes before Alfred would get there. But if he took the Segway? Then Arthur would be really screwed.

Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, Arthur was interrupted by his selfish cat that was lured by the smell of hamburger. Arthur yawned; 'Not again', he thought. Feeling angered, he aptly reached for his book and skillfully swatted it away. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critter began to scurry back toward the end table, appearing discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the Segway rolling up. It was Alfred.

\----o0o----

As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Wal-Mart to pick up a 12-pack of those freakin' AWESOME colored pencils he saw on TV, so he knew he was running late. With a careful leap, Alfred was out of the Segway and went earnestly jaunting toward Arthur's front door. Meanwhile inside, Arthur was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the hamburger into a box of Ludwig's potatoes and then slid the box behind his bookshelf. Arthur was pleased but at least the hamburger was concealed. The doorbell rang.

'Come in,' Arthur flamboyantly purred. (?)

With a calculated push, Alfred opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some annoying flaming idiot in a best-in-its-so-called-'class' sedan,' he lied.

'It's fine,' Arthur assured him. Alfred took a seat nearby where Arthur had hidden the hamburger. Arthur shuddered trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted. But Alfred was distracted. In a tragically predictable turn of events, Arthur noticed a clueless look on Alfred's face. Alfred slowly opened his mouth to speak.

'...What's that smell?'

Arthur felt a stabbing pain in his chest when Alfred asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the hamburger way too close. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A dimwitted look started to form on Alfred's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my ruined outfits from my pirate days and the maid's costume from... er, 1703. Francis, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Alfred nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Arthur could react, Alfred randomly lunged toward the box and opened it. The hamburger was plainly in view.

Alfred stared at Arthur for what must've been three seconds. A few unfulfilled decades later, Arthur groped charismatically in Alfred's direction, clearly desperate. Alfred grabbed the hamburger and bolted for the door. It was locked. Arthur let out an enchanting chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Alfred,' he rebuked. Arthur always had been a little abrasive, so Alfred knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Arthur did something crazy, like... start chucking potatoes at him or something... there was a box of them over there... dude, this could be a serious problem. A few moments later, he gripped his hamburger tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.

Arthur looked on, blankly. 'Bloody hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Alfred. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame seven days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for Alfred. 'Oh. You ...okay?' Still silence. Arthur walked over to the window and looked down. Alfred was gone.

\----o0o----

Just yonder, Alfred was struggling to make his way through the moor behind Arthur's place. Alfred had severely hurt his butt during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another stupid cat suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the hamburger. It latched on to Alfred. Already weakened from his injury, Alfred yielded to the onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing cat running off with his hamburger.

But then Lord Doitsu came down with His easygoing smile and restored Alfred's hamburger. The Great Lord Doitsu smote the cat for its injustice. Then He got in His nappy, busted-out turtle-mobile with Antonio and darted away with the fortitude of 60 Italians running from an Englishman. Alfred skipped with joy when he saw this. His hamburger was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in three minutes his favorite TV show was going to come on. Alfred was thrilled. And so, everyone except Arthur and a few tired Italians lived blissfully happy, forever after.

\-- End --

 

// This is like the entire Hetalia fandom's selection of weebs. Wow.


	3. For You

England never woke up.

Ah... well, he did wake up, but it was never the same England.

But I guess going into a coma could do that to people. He had been considered nearly brain dead, and he couldn't do anything- not walk, not speak, not understand -nor remember.

I stood outside the hospital room, hesitating... always hesitating. Eventually I opened the door, entered, and quietly shut the door behind me. When I finally gathered enough courage to look up from the floor, I had no words.

England sat in a hospital bed, propped up by some pillows. Tubes connected to his arms, which were still. A bandage was wrapped around his forehead, bits of blonde hair sticking up, and his eyes were half closed as I walked over, holding my breath.

"Hey." I finally breathed, almost to myself.

England shifted slightly and opened his eyes the rest of the way. His head was to the side ever so slightly, as if he was about to ask a question. His mouth parted, and he regarded me with a blank stare.

I swallowed. He had less than the intelligence of a small child. There was no recognition in his face now.

I moved to sit on the side of the bed. Picking up his left hand in both of mine, I watched him. His hand was cold, and his eyes widened at the warmth.

"Hello, England." I paused. "That's your name... you hurt yourself real bad..." When I started talking, I couldn't stop. I told him everything I could think of. "You got hit by a car, but I guess you can't remember, huh. You saved my life though, when you pushed me out of the way. You shouldn't have. You hit your head too, which is why you have that bandage on your forehead." I rambled on. "I know you're in there... the old you. Do you remember, England?" My voice faded to a whisper. "Do you remember me?"

I sat still for a second, and then starting to shake, I cried silently.

Then I heard a sound. It was the smallest sound that bubbled up from his throat- a slight hum, a mumble.

"Mmm."

It could have been child-like, how quiet and indistinguishable it was. I saw the green of his eyes brighten as tears welled up.

"Amer... ica."

I sucked in a breath.

"Yes." I laughed a sickly laughed, relieved. "Yes." I broke down, wrapping my arms around him. It would all be okay. "Yes, it's me, America."

\-- End --


End file.
